


Cuddles and Cons

by gray_autumn_sky



Series: Happiness Can't Be Arranged [11]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23618599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_autumn_sky/pseuds/gray_autumn_sky
Summary: Feeling overwhelmed by Robin's anxiety about her pregnancy, Regina steals some alone time for herself.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Robin Hood
Series: Happiness Can't Be Arranged [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1021440
Comments: 12
Kudos: 23





	Cuddles and Cons

For the most part, her pregnancy has gone smoothly. Of course, there were the expected ups and downs—morning sickness at the start, aches and pains as the baby she was carrying stretched her body, exhaustion from sustaining the life of another—but it was nothing in comparison to her first pregnancy.

All of the worries she had then were no longer things she had to consider. She didn't worry that a midwife would refuse to come to her aid when the time came or that she wouldn't be able to keep her newborn fed and warm. She didn't worry that she wouldn't know the most basic things about childcare, she didn't worry that some horrible accident would occur, and she didn't spend her nights staring at the ceiling as she wondered if someone else might give him a better life.

Instead, her attention was turned to decorating the new baby's nursery and selecting fabrics for Ruby to make into little outfits. She chose a pram, collected little story and song books, and relished in watching Robin's sweet attempts to bond with their unborn baby.

For a time, everything felt so perfect.

Then, in her sixth month, she caught a cold.

It was nothing, really, and in three days, all of her symptoms had vanished. It hadn't even required a visit from Dr. Hopper in the village. By the end of the week, she was back to her usual self, but something in Robin had changed. He was more cautious than he was before, more vigilant, and to her annoyance had become something of a shadow, rarely letting her out of his sight. He cancelled a trip to Sherwood and accompanied her on all errands, and though she knew that he meant well, it was more than a bit overwhelming.

At first, she thought it'd be brief—that he just wanted to make sure that she was truly better—but weeks after the cold had come and gone, nothing had changed. In fact, it'd only worsened. Of course, she knew that there were far worse things to have to deal with than a clingy husband and, deep down, she knew his sudden fearfulness had less to do with her than it did with Marian.

It wasn't something they talked about, and like Roland, Regina wasn't even sure if Robin was aware of the likely source of his anxiety. It wasn't a subject she wanted to dredge up and something she figured would only make things worse for everyone.

So, instead, she just tried to be patient and reassuring when she could be.

After all, she'd reasoned, her pregnancy wouldn't last forever.

Of course, there were times when that was easier said than done. Some days it got under her skin more than others and as her pregnancy progressed those rougher days seemed more frequent. It didn't help that she'd never been the most patient of people.

"Naps" became a sort of refuge.

Robin supported her getting as much rest possible, and she found that when she wanted to get away, the best thing to do was to tell him that she was going to take a nap. But instead of napping, she'd find a book or a catalogue or have Belle sneak in some tea and a snack, and enjoy an afternoon of solace as Robin wouldn't disrupt her rest—and better yet, he'd ensure the boys wouldn't disrupt her either.

Sometimes the cat would peek in curiously—who knows how he'd get in—and he'd stare at her with those big yellow-green eyes as if assessing her so that he could report back. He'd quickly lose interest in that, though, instead preferring to nap beside her on the plush blankets rather than tattling...

Every now and then, she'd feel a twinge of guilt about it, hiding away from them all, but the guilt never lasted long.

That afternoon she finds herself lounging in bed, a plate of leftover raspberry tarts balanced on her stomach as she skims through the pages of the last few editions of a woman's magazine from London. Toulouse is napping at the foot of the bed and the large bay window is cracked open, letting in a nice cool breeze. She's spent most of the afternoon here—reading, lounging, and snacking—and she can barely remember what propelled her into hiding in the first place. Her shoulders and jaw feel looser, her smile coming easier, her annoyance all but melted away...

Then the door creaked open.

She turns, quickly repositioning the plate of tarts as she looks to the door, watching as Henry pops his head in.

"Sorry to disturb you—"

"It's okay," she tells him, smiling gently—an hour ago she might've felt different. "Come in."

Henry grins and slips in quickly, shutting the door behind himself. "Roland is in the barn, shooting at targets."

"You didn't want to go, too?"

"Well, we've only got the one bow…"

"You could take turns."

Henry nods. "I know, but it's sort of… his thing. He's good at it, a lot better than me."

"If you practice—"

"I'm okay with him being better at it," Henry says easily. "Robin went down to watch him."

She smiles and pulls herself up, reaching for the plate of tarts. "Want one?"

She laughs as Henry's eyes light up and he nods. "Yes, please!"

"I hope no one minds that I had Belle steal them for me."

"I don't," Henry tells her as he picks the biggest one. "Mostly 'cause you're sharing with me."

"Come 'ere," she murmurs, pulling back the covers. "Come and lay down with me."

Henry does as requested, cuddling up against her as she covers him up with the quilt. She smiles a bit wistfully as he cuddles into her, taking the magazine for a look. It's been a long time since Henry's been interested in cuddles.

At nearly ten, he'd mostly given up on such things. She still routinely read bedtime stories to the boys before bed, but she'd long suspected Henry felt he'd outgrown them. Roland was always a captive audience, but Henry had a stack of his own books on his nightstand and undoubtedly would have prefered to read a couple of chapters from one of those on his own.

She relishes in the chance to cuddle with him now, knowing that as he gets older such opportunities will become fewer and fewer.

"I kind of miss this," he admits quietly, as he puts the magazine back down. "Do you remember when it was just the two of us?"

"Of course I do."

"And in winter how we'd spend all day in bed telling stories?" She laughs. Of course she remembers. Those memories are bittersweet for her, but given the way Henry smiles, it seems they're just sweet for him. "There was the one about the dragon—"

"There was _always_ a dragon."

"Yeah, but the one who'd blow fire down chimneys and accidentally set the rent collector's desk on fire, that one was funny."

She nods, remembering it—remembering the somewhat clumsy but helpful dragon she'd created. "He was always getting himself into trouble."

"That's what made him funny," Henry tells her, grinning up at her as he finishes off his tart. "I miss those stories."

Her brows arch up in surprise. "Do you?"

Henry's fingers twist around the blanket. "You always find good stories to read us from books, but sometimes they're… I don't know… kind of predictable." He grins up at her as she strokes her fingers through his hair. "The ones you made up were… so random sometimes."

"You know, I was just making them up as I went…"

"I know," Henry tells her. "But that's what made them so great. I never knew what was going to happen." He sits up a little, his hazel eyes sparkling. "Or you'd include people we knew or places we went or—" He stops and laughs. "Remember the one about the dragon snorting ale from his nose?"

She groans, rolling her eyes. She'd been particularly annoyed with one of the regulars at the tavern that night. He'd gotten so drunk that he could barely stand. The more he drank, the cruder and rowdier he got, and of course, that had been the night Henry wandered out of their little apartment to see what the ruckus was all about. So, she'd gone up to collect him, put him back to bed, and spun a story about their clumsy dragon friend.

Now, it seemed he only remembers that story, and for that, she was glad.

"Is this what you do when you take naps?" Regina blinks as Henry lays back down, pulling with him one of the magazines she's already read through. "You read and have snacks and—"

"Well, sometimes I nap, too."

Henry grins as he looks up from the magazine, pointing to a recipe title: 'The Best Orange Pudding that was Ever Tasted.' "We should make this some time."

"You think Mrs. Beakley would give up her kitchen?"

Henry giggles. "If Roland and I bat our eyelashes and smile big… I think it's definitely possible."

Leaning in, Regina laughs and presses a kiss to the top of Henry's head. "You two are turning into little con artists!"

"Only when sweets are involved."

Her eyes roll as she cuddles him closer. "Will you keep my secret?"

"You mean that you're not really napping when you go to nap?" She nods, ready to launch into an explanation of how it's really harmless and sometimes, she just needed a bit of time to herself. But before she can even consider what to stay, Henry sits up and grins cheekily at her. "Depends… can I have another raspberry tart?"

Her mouth drops as a little giggle escapes Henry. "Now you're conning _me_?"

"You're conning everyone else."

She blinks. "Will you still cuddle with me?"

Henry considers and nods, grinning as he accepts a tart from her plate before cuddling back against her—and despite herself, she can't muster even a degree of annoyance with him. After all, there are far worse things to be conned into than a little cuddle time with her eldest.


End file.
